Legacy of the Ruined
by TheJanissary
Summary: Sent out to complete her final task before she takes over the head of the Wilhelmina division of the Church, Charlotte is sent to a mysterious new palace that has arisen in Egypt in the wake of World War 2. Without Jonathan, who is searching for a way to tame the Vampire Killer's draining magic, Charlotte discovers that fighting on her own takes a lot more than just book smarts.
1. Prologue

_Hello! This is my first fanfic on in years, and it's nice to be back in business. Let's get the obvious out of the way first: I do not own Castlevania nor any of its characters. This is a relatively short introductory chapter, the setting of which is on the outskirts of Cairo, Egypt, in 1952; as such Charlotte and co. are older and more mature. You can see the revamped designs I have created on my tumblr, ozna-sve-dozna. More characters will be introduced in later chapters, so don't fret! Also, the character who appears towards the end is a completely original one, so don't worry about guessing your heads off as to who it may be.I hope you enjoy. :)_

Sand.

Charlotte hadn't been particularly fond of it before, but it, combined with heat that must have reached over a hundred degrees and an incessant, dry wind that was kicked up from the stinking jeep she had hitched a ride in made her ride across Egypt miserable. With one hand on her flopping felt hat and another on the grizzled pages of her grimoire , she struggled to focus her eyes on the approaching building through the intensifying clouds of dust and heat. The Church had lost their mind, or so she thought, sending her out here alone to battle whatever creature lurked in that dwelling. Witches weren't exactly trained in martial arts, after all.

She sighed—which turned out to be a huge mistake as she immediately started spitting out grains of the endless sand.

Behind her, she could hear a muted snickering. Vincent. Chest heaving with a repressed embarrassment, she whipped around to confront the cheap monk, eyes narrowing.

"Excuse you?" She said, hoping that her tone would at least garner an apology.

"I'm sorry," he said, but the sparkle in his eyes suggested he was anything but. "It's not like I don't believe in your skills, but you aren't exactly a one-man army. You seem to have trouble breathing here, even. I'm not sure I trust you alone."

Charlotte scoffed, this time being sure to block out any chance of inhaling mini-rocks. "But I'm not alone. I have _you _after all. The Church made sure of that."

She struggled to hold back a petty grin as she saw the monk's face suddenly twist downward, mouth pressed into a grimace. After he had insisted on still being stingy and downright rude after his spell as a vampire, Charlotte had been sure to complain in special detail to the Church. In turn, they sent him down here to join her in the path of danger, much to his displeasure—and with the guarantee that his services would now be free of charge. A few minutes of silence later, she was certain that the comment had shut him up for good.

As the vehicle came to a stop in front of the lavishly carved and decorated mansion, her mind started to rush with panic and excitement. This was the last challenge, they had said, the last obstacle before she could head the Wilhelmina convent, a special branch of the Church dedicated to training advanced spell casters. All she had to do, they said, was to prove her capability by vanquishing a plethora of high-risk monsters on her own. They hadn't given her much to go on, except that there had been a sighting of a palace in Egypt that hadn't been there before, and all of the signs of a vampire's dwelling, with the young and old disappearing and never being found again. It was no Dracula's castle, but it certainly held an air of intimidation about it: its hulking structure towered many stories high, much larger than any regular palace or mansion. Statues and reliefs decorated its every curve with themes like suicide, murder, and sickly and ugly creatures of the night preying on the unsuspecting. Even its lavish baroque curls seemed to suggest the beautiful traps of a spider's web, ready to ensnare the unwilling.

It simply shouted "evil". Vampires were not the most subtle of creatures, it seemed.

The witch adjusted her gloves; her massive book perched under her arm, and tried to steel herself for what was inside. She usually gave Jonathan confidence in himself, but now she couldn't help but long for her old companion's reassurance here. But she was a grown woman now, no little girl. She wasn't going to let apprehension consume her. She had been a good witch before—but with this victory, she would become a truly _great _witch.

With her thanks to the driver and without waiting for Vincent to catch up, she placed her hands on the cool, solid wood of the palace's doors and pushed. A slow, easy creaking greeted her as they swung open on rusted hinges, revealing a decaying interior courtyard. Her nose crinkled as the smell of composts and dying wood hit her nostrils—something somewhere had died, she was sure, as the unmistakable musk of corpses hung heavy in the air. Plants had overtaken the space, with ivy and shrubs growing rampant over walkways, windows, and benches. Her careful, deliberate steps inside the massive area further drove the assumption home—skeletons lined the many yards of concrete and stone walling, a fountain in the center of the courtyard spurting what seemed like a mixture of oozing blood and green sludge. Her hand flew to open her book as the doors slammed heavily behind her, and she spun on her heel, words of fire ready on her tongue…but her eyes only met a sheepish Vincent, who seemed just as shocked at the deafening noise as she was.

"You could at least _try_ to stay stealthy, monk!" She hissed through clenched teeth, but didn't stick around to hear his equally frustrated reply.

A rustling from underneath a bush drew her attention. She had barely started towards it when a zombie came lurking from its hiding spot beneath the leaves, materializing from a bright red, slimy goop, liquidized fleshy maw open, eyeless sockets wanting, hands grasping for a tender, living morsel. Charlotte thrust her book open, the pages flipping wildly as she shouted her spell of choice—"ICE NEEDLE!"—and a prong of frozen water thrust through the corpse. It sputtered its insides onto the needle, bits of dead flesh dropping off, before collapsing and dying once more. Charlotte pretended not to hear Vincent's yelp of fright behind her. Better to leave the man with _some _dignity.

"You can set up shop here," she said, glancing around. "It seems safe."

Vincent spat out an objection. "Did you not see that zombie? Surely there must be somewhere safer inside!"

"If there are only zombies here, it's almost a guarantee that there are more frightening things inside. Why won't you just listen to me and stay here? I can set up a barrier and that should keep these weaker things out, alright?"

The monk proceeded to set things up with a grumble, while Charlotte, rolling her eyes, scanned the area for the entrance to the inside of the palace. She didn't have to look very far, as marble doors carved with demonic figures loomed just to her left. Making sure to set up a quick barrier around Vincent and his shop, she dove past the new doors and into the next room.

A grand hall opened up to her, a wide passage that seemed to stretch forever. Mockeries of art stained the walls, along with blood and other sinister materials. The feel of it was familiar. Brauner had very similar tastes. For a moment, she paused, wondering if it was indeed the crazed artist who had come back from the grave before quickly dismissing the idea. Though on the surface it seemed to say, the dark pulsing beneath it was something very new. In the distance, she could hear the tell-tale shuffling steps of axe armors and the intense flapping of a harpy. At least the enemies were the same, and she smiled, lips curled into a confident smirk. Test? The Church might have gone easy on her after all.

A whooshing ray of blinding violet light in front of her quickly dispelled any of that cockiness. Charlotte stumbled back, struggling to cover her eyes with an arm before being slammed back into the door by the very force of the presence. With a grunt, her arm dropped and eyes flew open to confront the thing before her.

Tall, lanky, and blonde, the woman before her was draped an a gaudy array of silky fabrics, each piece exceedingly colorful and garish and seemed to drip off her body with a torturous heaviness. The newcomer raised a gloved hand to her anorexic lips before smiling in such a haunting, ugly manner that Charlotte couldn't help but shudder in response.

"Welcome, my dear witch," the woman said grandly, drawing her vowels out with relish. "Do you enjoy my home so far?"

Charlotte glared feet and arms moving awkwardly into position. "You're the vampire behind this?"

"You're not even going to answer my question? What a rude girl," said the woman, who nonetheless seemed more amused than insulted.

Charlotte would have lost her temper before had someone called her just a "girl", but now she simply held her tongue. The mysterious woman only tilted her head.

"I," said the woman after a period of silence "am no vampire. Simply an alchemist who has designs for the Dark Lord."

_Alchemist?_

Though Charlotte had worked alongside some alchemists within the church, she had never seen one that worked independently…though the rumors that many of them served Dracula were thick and well documented. Still, she couldn't attack without knowing her weaknesses—charging in blind could mean her own death, and it was not something the witch was fond of experiencing.

"So you're planning to bring him back. I should have known—"

"No. Not bring him back."

Thin eyebrows jumped up as Charlotte halted mid-speech.

"What?"

The Alchemist simply smiled. "I'm not here to bring him back. This palace is not for the Dark Lord, but is a dwelling for who is soon to be his strongest minion. A bodyguard of sorts, an elite vanguard to make sure no whip-wielding brat ever defeats him again."

Charlotte's tome flew open, a mace thrust from its middle. She had just planned to intimidate the woman somehow, but in another blinding flourish, she disappeared once more. Gone without a trace, and without a name. Charlotte steadied herself, still high from adrenaline, and took a minute to ponder what had just been said.

So this was the site of the creation of a powerful minion. She shuddered to think of someone who could be so powerful as to be Dracula's own personal bodyguard—she had fought Death and barely survived. If this new creation was meant to be more powerful than Death himself…

With shaky steps, Charlotte Aulin stumbled further into the palace.


	2. Ruin Bequeathed

_A thank you to people who read the prologue! Things should start picking up a bit now, and we learn a little more about the palace in Egypt. Please rate and review!_

Blood gushed from her lip as her teeth sank deeper into the reddening flesh.

Charlotte's hand fumbled for the correct page, eyes darting back and forth between the open tome and the fast approaching demon whose own hand was thrust forward, summoning a dark ball of hellish energy, ready to release the sphere into her chest. She was only halfway through the hall and already she had hit Malachi and other high-ranking beasts. Unfortunately, she had only noticed the lumbering monstrosity when the first ball of destruction hit her chest—prior to that she had just dismembered a rather flimsy axe armor with a flick of her wrist. The Alchemist had made sure not to waste her time with the cannon fodder.

"Damn it!" she cursed, breath quickening as the ball was launched, again heading towards her already bruised ribcage. A weak shield appeared in front of her as she spat out a spell in her panic. It wasn't much, but it held back the attack long enough for her to skid underneath the flaming sphere and summon a quick burst of fire with a thrust of her hand.

An agonizing shriek sounded from the monster as it crumbled slowly into dust, its limbs blackening and dissolving slowly into a foul smelling smudge on the flesh-matted carpet. Hardly had that finished before a sharp hissing zoomed by her head, a gurgling screech following immediately after. Blood drained from her face as she identified the source. Medusa heads. Dozens of them, slinking through the air towards her, their deformed faces grinning with bloodlust. With a wave of her palm, Charlotte grabbed a summoned sword and tried to calculate the loop of the assaulting monsters so that her aim would swing true.

"Swing up—"

A head hit her hand, knocking her off balance, and sent her crashing into another two heads, their snake strands snapping at her with intense venom, and she wildly swung around herself just to knock them off. Silently, she chastised herself. Much of killing the Medusa heads relied on pure instinct. What was she thinking?

"Why won't you all just die already!?"

She rushed forward, hair swinging behind her, lunging with her sword, poised to strike anything near enough to brush its sharp edges. She sprinted the rest of the length of the hall with a cool confidence, leaving bisected skulls in her wake. Overthinking would get her nowhere here. She had to balance thought with action—leaving the heavy lifting to others was out of the question when you fought solo. Only when she hit the next set of doors did she dare stop to catch her breath and look behind her, observing the damage. A copious amount of carnage littered the hallway, and she couldn't help but feel proud of her work.

"Take that, Jonathan!" She said, smiling. He would have probably been impressed by her going all out like that-but as she thought more about the fellow vampire hunter, her smile slowly slipped away, eyes losing their luster.

Both of them were on dangerous missions now, both of them alone. She could only hope and pray that Jonathan was having an easier time than her. If she came back successful, only to find out that her best friend had died in battle—

She shook her head as if it were being physically harassed by her thoughts. _You can't afford to think like that, Charlotte. Your mission is to get rid of this palace and its master. Let's go._

The thoughts hung on a little longer before they were eventually shrugged off with the entering of the next room.

As if a twisted sign of reassurance, the room was a gigantic, round library, piled high to the glass domed ceiling with books of every age, shape, and genre. Normally, such a large collection of books would put her at ease, but as she journeyed further into its deep labyrinth of shelves and pages—so thick and convoluted as to function as an extremely claustrophobic maze—her mind closed in further on herself in panic, anticipation and dread quickly filling her senses. Each rustling and crinkling of the open books she stepped on made her eyes dart around more quickly, a nervous swallowing her only form of comfort.

"This is ridiculous, you're a grown woman. There's no reason to be afraid of books. They were your best friend for a long time, remember?"

She almost felt ashamed that she was saying such things to herself…but more ashamed that they were true. She clutched at her own book with a building desperation, and started to open it to ready a preemptive attack when her feet deceived her and caught on the edge of a large encyclopedia, sending her tumbling into a dusty pile of papers and pages. And as if on cue, a light, cold voice started at the sudden upset. Charlotte pressed herself towards the floor as she listened.

"Did you hear that, sister?"

Charlotte's ears pricked at the sound. That sounded way too familiar. Wanting to move, she nonetheless forced her body to stay down. Could it be…? A stronger voice followed soon after, sounding a bit annoyed at the lighter voice's question.

"Of course I did, I'm not deaf, Loretta. I wouldn't be surprised if a monster followed us in here. It's almost like we attract them."

S_he said Loretta! _Charlotte smiled to herself as she recognized the other voice—it was truly unmistakable. She had heard them both enough times to learn to fear them before…and now to value them as allies. Shuffling up from her spot, she called out to the duo.

"Stella, Loretta! Is that you?"

The two voices started at the same time, a clear currant of shock running through them. "Charlotte?"

"I'm over here…wherever here is. Could you two stay where you are? It'll be easier for me to run to you like that. This maze is really hard to go through."

Stella, apparently, thought otherwise, as a strong gust of wind knocked down stacks upon stacks of bookcases, one of which barely missed crashing into Charlotte, who had to roll across a pile of books to avoid being squashed by the falling wood. Panting and now thoroughly covered in lint and more than a few paper cuts, Charlotte looked across the room incredulously at the woman who had caused the event. The elder twin's mismatched eyes widened in shock, and she seemed to mouth a quick apology that Charlotte only answered by going red in the face.

Loretta seemed to be chuckling in a hushed tone, and Charlotte's eyes snapped in her direction, now fully embarrassed.

"I thought you two stopped trying to kill me when we cured you of your condition!" Charlotte sputtered out, scrambling to her feet to try and gain some sort of composure before them.

"Condition?" A corner of Stella's mouth twitched into a smirk, and Charlotte was not sure if she was laughing or becoming angry. "There's no need to be gentle about our Vampirism. We're well aware of what went down. I apologize, though—didn't expect for the entire place to come crashing down."

"Well maybe you should take that into account next time!"

"It would be easier if this place weren't a complete mess!"

Loretta's eyes moved slowly between her sister and Charlotte as they spoke in raised tones, staying quiet until she felt the need to interject.

"Charlotte, why are you here?" She finally asked, and Charlotte, caught off guard by the question, seemed to be unable to answer.

"The Church sent me…it's a test," she answered, though her voice faltered when her mind started to work through the implications of the sisters' appearance here. "What business brought you two here?"

The twins shared a glance before Stella spoke up for the both of them.

"We heard that another vampire's lair had appeared, and we came to get rid of it. We can't have what happened to us happened to someone else."

Charlotte nudged her eyebrows together in concern, frowning.

"But," she said carefully "you know what happened the last time…why would you even risk it?"

She didn't mean to come off as rude, but the expression of pain that suddenly crossed Loretta's face and the subtle look of anger that flashed across Stella's had told her that she had pushed a button anyway. She watched as Stella's hand swiftly and quietly made its way to steady its shaking opposite—what Charlotte recognized as the woman's sword hand.

"I'm sure Father would understand," Loretta said, words falling with a crushing weight. "We're a family that was brought up on slaying the undead. It's our tradition."

"_Well we'll just have to make sure that tradition doesn't persist, no?"_

The moment the strange voice picked up all three women lashed around to confront the source. Atop one of the last few standing bookcases stood the Alchemist, a smile painted on her skull-like face.

"I don't know how you two entered my domain without my knowing," said the woman with a haughty glance downward, "but you won't be leaving."

Stella released her sword hand and raised the pointed tip of her weapon in the intruder's direction.

"Who are you!?"

"The Alchemist," Charlotte answered, and this time she swung her tome outward, casting a rain of ice shards in the direction of her enemy.

The Alchemist dancingly avoided each shard, much to the spell caster's shock, and landed with a spin on the ground in front of them, expertly balancing on her toe. The woman clearly had more than a few screws loose, but as she latched her gaze upon Charlotte's, the witch couldn't help but be chilled by the crazed intelligence underneath the seeming insanity. Charlotte readied another spell, but held back when she noticed a disturbing lack of action from the twins. Glancing back, a shiver ran down her spine.

Stella's eyes were wide in shock, and Loretta's mouth had moved slightly open, giving the impression that she had been frozen mid-word. The sheer dismay conveyed in their appearances unnerved Charlotte enough that she started to shout without meaning to.

"What is it?! Did she cast a spell—"

"The Alchemist."

"E…excuse me?"

Stella started once more, this time with an air of fury. "The Alchemist! Are you the one who created the Angel's Taint?"

Charlotte, lost, whipped back around to read the Alchemist's expression, and saw a growing, toothy smile overtake the skeletal woman's face.

"Indeed!" She exclaimed, and took a bow that would have been absolutely silly in any other situation, but only served to heighten Charlotte's nervousness. There was just so much that wasn't known about this woman that added to her unpredictability—and if there was one thing Charlotte had trouble dealing with, it was the unknown.

"I am that alchemist. I'm surprised you know of my work."

Loretta piped up, her own cold voice growing stronger. "All hunters know of it."

Charlotte tried not to let a flush overtake her face; whatever they were talking of, _she _had heard nothing of it.

"Ah, I see. So then you already know what I plan."

Loretta's glare spoke volumes of anger…but also uncertainty.

The Alchemist seemed almost gleeful. "You know of the Angel's Taint, but you have no idea what it is?"

This time, Stella stepped in, striding forward, ready to strike. "All we know is the name, and that its purpose is not good—and that's all I need to know to destroy you!"

A hurricane erupted from Stella's swing, but the Alchemist leapt once more into the air, spinning mid-flight before landing on the bookcase.

"How adorable! But it will take much more than simply knowledge of my project's name to keep it from coming to fruition! Ta-ta, darlings. I don't have time to deal with you."

The Alchemist flicked her hand downward and something small and bright—a flask of liquid—crashed on the floor. In that instant, the woman had disappeared, and a flood of sticky, red clouds burst forth from the container, quickly starting to cover the room.

"What is that?" Stella asked, starting to back away.

Charlotte quickly recognized the compound—and her stomach started to turn.

"Necrotizing demon blood," she answered, and started to slip through her tome with sweaty fingers. "If we don't escape it, it will eat us alive."

"Alright then, let's get out of here!"

Loretta spoke up from above, floating out of the clouds' reach.

"The door is blocked by the gas. I'm not sure if we can make it out of that exit."

"Stella!" Charlotte shouted, and the older woman stared in her direction, a sweat starting to break out on her forehead. "There's too much gas here for me to clear on my own, but we should be able to blow a path through the fog with our wind spells."

Stella nodded, and took her stance in front of the growing blossom of red clouds. Charlotte joined her, tome outstretched.

"On the count of three! 1, 2, 3—"

A burst of air charged forward with a loud roar, blasting the clouds back against the walls of the library. It didn't take long for them to start to close up. Charlotte nodded towards the door, and the three women started to rush towards the exit. Unfortunately, the door was a lot farther than expected, and Charlotte, easily the shortest of the three, found herself having a hard time catching up. The gasses started to nip at her heel, and she yelped with pain as it burned a part of her ankle. Looking down, she could see red sores starting to dig into her skin. She had to get out, fast.

Loretta, who had already made it through the door and was helping her sister through it saw the struggling mage and immediately started to dash back to get her. Stella shouted in protest, but Loretta did not dare turn back.

"Charlotte! Try to grab my hand!"

Charlotte bobbed her head in understanding and jumped over a stretch of fog that had started to seep in front of her. Loretta grabbed her around the waist and, though struggling, managed to bring them both up over the clouds, floating safely into the next room, where Stella slammed the door shut behind them.

"Why didn't you use your broom, Charlotte?" Stella said, glaring at the two women with a mixture of fear and relief.

"I…I don't know. I blanked out." Charlotte answered sheepishly. Again, she lectured herself internally. This was the second time she had allowed herself to be taken off guard. How was she supposed to lead others if she could barely lead her own mind? She had to stop overthinking things if she wanted to live.

No more second-guessing. Studying the action was one thing, but living it was something completely different. She and Jonathan had helped each other by reminding the other of this simple rule, but alone, she had to remind herself. It was so much harder to think logically without the comfort of someone there to pick you up when you fell.

"Well enough of that," Stella said with a sigh. "This Alchemist is a lot smarter than she looks. Let's go see if we can find a place to rest for a bit—I saw that mark on your foot."

"Yeah," said Charlotte, regaining her resolve. A place to duck for a minute or two to cast a healing spell on her ankle would also allow her to ask about the one detail she seemed to be missing.

That project the other women had called "Angel's Taint".


	3. Blood Revenge

The trek to the next room was a surprisingly difficult one. Charlotte was starting to drag her burned foot, and it turned out that Loretta had suffered some serious burns on her arms and thigh. The hallway after the library was narrow and blank; neither pictures nor doors lined its sides, only flickering torches seeming painfully out of date in the otherwise modern and lavish palace. The creaking steps and scuffs of sinister creatures beyond them bounced loudly off of the stone walls, but so far they had encountered none. Finally, near the end of the hall's stretch, a door. Stella nudged it open, sword at the ready, but dropped her weapon slowly as it revealed that the moderately sized room contained no demons.

"Alright," said Stella, moving aside fallen lamps and debris to make room for the injured ladies. "Let's gather ourselves here before moving on. You're good at healing, right Charlotte?"

Charlotte nodded her head and uttered a curt "Yes" before turning to Loretta, who had slid onto the ground; her face was scrunched in what was clearly a concentrated effort to avoid showing her own pain. The brunette knelt next to her, and, laying her hands gently on the pulsing, flaking burns, started a steady chant. The wounds started to shine slightly before erasing themselves. Only after all of Loretta's wounds were gone did Charlotte concentrate on her own.

Stella sat on a table, playing with her sword.

"So, you know about the Alchemist?" she asked, leveling her gaze on Charlotte.

Charlotte answered warily. "I only ran into her here. I had no idea who she was before I came here…and I honestly still don't."

"We had no idea she was here, either. But this test you mentioned…you came here to get rid of the Angel's Taint didn't you?"

Again, the phrase Charlotte couldn't make heads or tails of. Charlotte shook her head, feeling slightly ashamed of her ignorance of the situation. The Church had kept so hush-hush about the mission that the only thing Charlotte could truthfully say she was certain of was the location of the palace and nothing more.

"Just what is this 'Angel's Taint'? You all talk like it's common knowledge, but I've never heard it mentioned in my life."

Loretta turned her head towards Charlotte, eyebrows raised in clear surprise. When she spoke, she sounded as if she were lecturing a two-year old.

"Surely they wouldn't have kept this a secret from you. It's one of the largest threats to the Church and the Belmonts that we know of."

Charlotte almost reeled back, hairs standing up on her neck.

"What!? What is this Angel's Taint—why didn't they tell me-!?"

"I don't know why they'd hide that from you," the younger twin said, a twinge of confusion in her voice. "And, if I may speak the truth, Sister and I don't know much about it, either. But we fought the Alchemist a while ago, only a little before our encounter with Brauner."

Turning her head towards Stella, Charlotte saw the older twin nod in confirmation.

"The Alchemist's real name is Lana Holmwood. We met her in an underground laboratory hidden in the depths of Transylvania. We had heard about the Angel's Taint, and thought it a codename for some homunculus she was concocting. "

"You…you mean it isn't? But she called her project the ultimate minion for Dracula."

Stella shook her head as if dispelling the very notion. "When we finally found her, whatever she was working on was not meant to be living in any way. It looked like an item. We didn't get a clear look."

"All we know is that whatever she was making was white," Loretta said, now getting back on her feet. "We don't know anything beyond that."

"Before we destroyed the lab, she escaped. But not before saying that the Angel's Taint would go on the ruin the legacy of the Belmonts and all vampire killers who dared oppose Dracula," Stella finished.

Charlotte fingered the pages of her book as she always did when she heard troubling news. Nothing was making sense anymore.

"But why go through the trouble of making such a huge palace for an item like that? Wouldn't you hide such a powerful item in a less conspicuous place until Dracula returned?"

"Maybe this is a training ground for its usage," suggested Loretta, and Stella bobbed her head in agreement. "Perhaps she built this palace to lure vampire hunters here and see how powerful her item was against them before using it on the Belmonts."

"It seems like the most logical choice…" Charlotte trailed off, still unsure.

"It probably houses some deadly spirit. That's the only thing dire enough I can think of to require such an environment," said Stella, and Charlotte decided to save that theory in the back of her mind. It made sense, but she couldn't cross off everything just yet. There was overthinking…and then there was dismissing other options without enough evidence to disprove them for good.

"So now that we know that the Alchemist is here, and that this Angel's Taint is also here, we should have a slightly better idea of what to go after," said Charlotte, determination filling her voice. "We have to kill Lana Holmwood, and we have to destroy the Angel's Taint. Seems simple enough."

Stella tapped her sword against the floor's rotten wooden planks, lifting one up to observe the squirming termites on its underside. "Almost _too _simple. You'd think Lana would have something more than just these monsters guarding such a powerful artifact. She should have sidekicks, or minions of her own. Someone other than just herself and these creatures."

"Perhaps she's overly confident in her own skills," said Loretta quietly. "Or maybe she just is that difficult. We couldn't kill her the last time we confronted her, Sister."

"Or maybe," Charlotte chipped in, gathering her things and striding towards the door, "she does have subordinates and we just haven't come across them yet. Maybe these monsters are just here to delay us until she's ready to strike. Whatever it is, I don't want to have to wait longer than I have to. Come on, let's go."

The two sisters uttered their approval and together they ventured out the door, spying the hallway exactly as it had been left. As they turned the corner, into what opened up to be a large indoor pool, Stella spoke up again.

"I almost forgot to ask, Charlotte. Why are you alone? I know this is a test, but even a witch of your level might need some backup on a mission so significant."

Charlotte, who was taken aback by the candidness of Stella's words (and the surprise compliment), did not answer immediately, instead staring right ahead and burning two mermen to a crisp when they back flipped into the air from the pool.

"Jonathan went on his own sometime last year to look for a way to control the Vampire Killer," she answered, keeping her focus on the infinitely spawning water abominations.

Stella, who had started to slice through the blubbery membrane of a Forneus, had her question picked up by Loretta, who was busy crushing a hoard of ghouls between ice spikes.

"Control it? But we taught him how to unlock its true power. You don't mean that-." She cut herself off, choosing to swipe the head off of a dead pirate who had crept up behind her.

"Yes," Charlotte said, predicting the rest of the reply. "He's hunting for a way to keep himself from draining his life while using the whip at its full power. Even though he KNOWS there has been no record in history of anyone other than the Belmont Clan being able to control it. But he was always stubborn. And, occasionally, an idiot."

Despite her words, Charlotte felt like, somewhere, somehow, Jonathan might find a way to get the job done. Stubborn as he might be, and thick as he was at times, overall Jonathan was a smart man. People had called Charlotte a prodigy for years, and she relished that. These same people, however, often brushed over her comrade's own skills. The mastery of a cornucopia of weapons, martial arts, the killing of thousands of monsters, _Death, and Dracula himself, _all accomplished at only age 18. He, too, was years before his seniors.

"Good luck to him, then. Ugh—wait just a moment. These mermen are too annoying!" Stella, who was being accosted by a dozen mermen by the edge of the pool, broke from their slimy grasp and skid backwards, whipping her blade in a circle and aiming the resulting wind deep into the pool.

A huge shockwave burst through the water, expelling mermen and water alike in a huge wave that shook across the edges of the pool, spilling across the entire room and out of the newly broken window. Barely a foot of water remained. The event was so violent and sudden that Charlotte couldn't help but laugh in disbelief.

"We might need that luck instead if you keep this up," she said, dismayed that she was now soaked to the bone…but the monsters had been eliminated, so she forged on through the room with the others hot behind her.

It was only when she placed a hand on the door out that she heard it.

A low rasping, as soft as a kitten's mewling, and what sounded like broken sobbing. Confused, Charlotte paused to press her ear closer to the door. The noise continued before breaking into a very human cry, shocking her into action. She kicked open the door and took in the grisly sight before her: the hall was covered in all manners of gore and remains, fallen, fresh corpses already starting to buzz with flies and two bodies deep, piled so tightly that the carpet could barely be seen underneath their leaking bodies and frozen faces. The stench was the worst: horrid and rancid, it overtook the entire hallway, smelling of decaying meat that had been left out in the sun too long—even though they were inside, the Egyptian sun heated the palace as ruthlessly as if they had been outside in the sand the entire time.

"What the hell happened here…?" Stella said, eyes darting from body to body, mouth twitching between a grimace and a growl. "There's so many. This is an entire village's worth! How could no one notice this?"

Charlotte shook her head. "I…don't know. But I heard a voice. Someone is still alive. Maybe we could save them, and ask them."

"Hello?" Loretta called out, trying to be calm, but voice clearly shaking with concern. "Where are you? We're here to help."

The moaning sobs sounded again. Whoever it was sounded distinctly feminine. Charlotte crept towards the source, wincing when she stepped on a corpse that seemed riper than the others. She didn't know if the monster that did this was still here, perhaps hiding under the bodies, perhaps lurking around the corner, waiting for them to let their guard down before ripping them to shreds like these poor people…

She stepped on a face and the voice cried out directly underneath her. Charlotte, startled, jumped back, a look of both desperation and glee fighting for prominence on her face.

"Oh thank God! You're alive, here, just stay still, I'll heal you—"

Charlotte paused when she saw the state of the ravaged woman. Her throat had been ripped almost completely out, and though her carotid artery had just barely been nicked, the entire thing was exposed and bleeding. She could watch the weak blood vessel struggle, beating, spurting out blood from the opening, and Charlotte know just from the amount of blood the woman had lost that she would not survive.

"…I'm sorry…" was all she could utter, but the woman took Charlotte by surprise by gasping out a few more words before death overcame her.

"Vam—vampire!" She whispered urgently, her wide eyes glossing over but losing none of their intensity. "It was a vampire! Couldn't…see him…but …he was with the woman…kill—"

The woman let out a choking gasp, and her lips struggled to get out another word, her face turning blue with the very effort. After a few seconds of this, she slowed to a halt, eyes still open. A duo of flies decided the glossy orbs would make a good nesting place—Charlotte, disgusted, closed the woman's eyes, said a prayer on her behalf, and stood up, still staring at her face.

"So there is another 'minion' here," she said, feeling anger and bile rise within her. "She has a vampire in her employ. Or maybe she's the one under the vampire's control. Either way…"

Though Charlotte never finished her sentence, the sisters understood.

They exited the hallway, making sure the slam the door shut behind them, a large echo erupting in their wake.

When they had left, a rustling started from beneath the sea of bodies. Methodically, slowly, a hand worked its way from between blood tangled limbs, followed smoothly by an arm, a head, a torso, a body. The man skimmed some of the caked blood from his clothes with elongated claws before tapping his bottom lip with the same appendages, a hoarse chuckle hissing from between his lips.

"Oh. They're home."

_AN: Alright, we're updating at a steady pace here. And now there is a vampire in the mix. B) Remember as always to rate and review!_


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